“Are you sure he is a patriot?” asked the sergeant of the squad of soldiers.
“We are positive,” replied one of the arresting soldiers.
“We will get him into the Old Keep immediately,” declared the sergeant. “King Mectin will be pleased.”
“The king will most certainly be pleased,” retorted one of the arresting soldiers, “which is why my partner and I will be taking him in. We did what was necessary to capture him. No one else is going to take the credit.”
The sergeant glared at the arresting soldiers for a moment before shaking his head. “Neither of you are authorized to enter the Old Keep. I will take the prisoner, but you can be assured that both of you will get credit for his capture.”
“You just run ahead and tell King Mectin that we are bringing a patriot in,” countered one of the arresting soldiers. If he doesn’t trust us inside the Old Keep, he can just come out and fetch the prisoner himself. We are not turning him over to anyone but the king. This patriot probably knows the entire rebel organization. His capture is worth a great deal, and we mean to enjoy the benefits of his capture.”
“I will have you working as sentries in the Barrier for this,” spat the sergeant.
One of the arresting soldiers laughed. “Sergeant, I will outrank you before the sun sets. You won’t be assigning me anywhere. If I were you, I would be careful about giving me such ideas.”
The sergeant growled in defeat and turned to one of his subordinates. He sent the subordinate to the Old Keep to announce that his squad was bringing in a patriot. As soon as the chosen man was dispatched, the sergeant ordered his men to escort the two arresting soldiers and their captive. While the arresting soldiers would get the credit for the arrest, the sergeant planned to be included when the rewards were handed out.
As the arresting soldiers led the prisoner away, Theos finally got to see the prisoner’s face. He knew the man to be a close confident of Captain Marez. A shiver raced up the mage’s back as he thought about the implications of Artum’s arrest. Artum certainly could lay out the entire patriot organization for King Mectin, and Theos knew that the prisoner would eventually talk, no matter how loyal he was. K’san had the ability to reach into people’s minds and simply take what he wanted. Theos could not let that happen, but neither could he openly intervene. It was just that sort of intervention that he had been fighting against inside of him since he first arrived in Ur. If he did anything to stop the arrest, he would never get the chance to join in the rebellion, and the patriots would need his magical skills to succeed. Numbed with indecision, the mage cautiously followed the procession of soldiers towards the Old Keep.
The mage’s wanderings had taken him almost to the city gates, and the trip back to the center of the city was slow. At each intersection, Theos looked around for any patriot that he could find. He desperately wanted to get word to Captain Marez, Karl, or Althea, but he saw no one that he could trust. The closer they got to the city center, the more agitated Theos became. By the time the Old Keep came into view, Theos was agitated beyond measure. If he was to make a decision, the time had arrived. In the end, he found the decision to be remarkably simple.
As the group of soldiers leading the prisoner started up the walk towards the gates of the Old Keep, Theos halted and brought both arms up before him. Sheets of fire leapt from his fingertips, and he directed the twin attacks to the soldiers flanking the prisoner.
“Run to me, Artum!” Theos shouted. “Run to me!”
The flames immediately engulfed the two arresting soldiers, and Theos slowly spread his arms apart, moving the walls of flame away from Artum. This tactic forced the squad of soldiers to move away from the prisoner and the burning corpses of his captors, leaving Artum a clear path of retreat to Theos. Artum was momentarily dazed by the unexpected attack, and he looked around in wonder. When he finally realized what was happening, Artum started running towards Theos, but he never made it to safety. An archer on the walls of the keep let his arrow fly, and the shaft sunk deep into Artum’s back. In a fit of rage, Theos swept his arms apart, engulfing the entire escorting squad in flames.
Horns blared from the towers of the Old Keep, and soldiers rushed out through the gates to attack the mage. Theos knew that his acts had broken his promise to Karl, and he knew that meant that he would not be involved in the rebellion of his homeland. That knowledge brought with it a level of rage that Theos had never felt before. Instead of retreating and running for his life, Theos stood his ground. He pointed his arms towards the soldiers pouring out of the Old Keep, and fire once more flared from his fingertips. Sheets of flame soared towards the keep and the charge halted. The soldiers scrambled to get out of the way, but few were fortunate enough to escape the onslaught. The stench of searing flesh and burning leather filled the air, and a cloud of smoke rose eerily skyward.
Unexpectedly, a powerful magical projectile flew past the mage’s head so close that it ripped the hood off of his head, exposing his fiery hair for all to see. Theos instinctively erected a magical shield of defense and gazed through the smoky air towards the keep. In a crenel on the wall stood a black-cloak, and his face was masked with anger at having missed his target. Theos smirked as he raised one arm and let loose a spell of power. He knew that the black-cloak would have already erected his own magical shield, but Theos knew how to play this game. A powerful invisible force slammed into the wall just to one side of the black-cloak. A bystander might have scored the blast as a near miss, but it hit exactly where Theos had aimed it. The blast slammed into the stone wall with a force so powerful that it smashed a portion of the wall into small chunks of rock. Those small chunks of stone flew outward with the force of an explosion. While the black-cloak did indeed have a magical shield surrounding him, he had not planned on a physical attack. That failure cost the black-cloak his life as hundreds of chunks of stone tore into his body.
The firebrand’s own shields were suddenly peppered with all sorts of magical projectiles. Theos scanned the ramparts again and located seven black-cloaks, well spaced out. His eyes also detected fresh troops rushing out of the keep to physically attack him. Knowing his magical shields were strong enough to weather the onslaught for a few minutes, he turned his attention to the rushing soldiers. He sent sheets of flame at the soldiers, but they had been instructed to use their shields to deflect the flames. While some of the soldiers fell, not all of them did. Theos quickly corrected his tactics and sent a small burst of invisible power towards the advancing troops. The bolts of energy smashed into the columns of soldiers, sending the head man of each column flying backwards with enough force to topple the entire column. Theos immediately returned to sending sheets of fire at the enemy. With the soldiers’ bodies crumbled in heaps, the shields were no longer effective in stopping the flames from reaching their targets. Screams and howls of agony split the air as the soldiers burned to death. As Theos returned his attention to the black-cloaks on the ramparts, a tiny weight landed on his shoulder.
“Karl demands that you retreat immediately,” Thimble said with a sense of urgency. “There are soldiers responding to the horns from every sector of the city. You have only moments before they are upon you. Flee now.”